Why is the Moon so Lonely?
by Tibarn'Worshipper
Summary: A year after the incident on the island Claire is still lamenting Steve's death, unaware that he is standing right outside her apartment. SteveClaire


**My second Resident Evil fic! This time it's Steve/Claire. **

**Italics and bold = Moon story**

**Italics = thoughts**

**This fic idea came at one in the morning, and I couldn't rest until I wrote it.**

**I just ordered three of the Resident Evil novels. :)**** Happy day!!**

**I'll either be doing a Billy/Rebecca or a Chris/Jill one next… It will probably end up being both.**

**Flamers will end up like Wesker in Resident Evil 5. Believe me, I can make that happen.**

_** Why is the moon so lonely at night?**_

Claire Redfield sat on her double bed, her head in her hands. Her digital watch read 8:53. If things were normal she would be hanging out with Chris and Jill or some of her other friends. But things were far from normal.

That was the reason why she sat alone the darkness of her apartment.

_** It's because she used to have a lover.**_

It seemed like the incidents at Rock Fort Island had happened yesterday, not a year ago. Sometimes, Claire would wake up and expect to see the metal walls of the prison, not the wallpaper of her bedroom.

Her time in Raccoon City had been just as traumatizing as the island; but the island haunted her far more than the city did. Every night she could see Alexia's virus controlled form, see her bodyguards aim their guns at her chest, hear Wesker's maniacal laughter. Then she would wake up screaming and covered in sweat.

Her older brother often asked her why the island had this effect on her. Claire had told him that she didn't know.

That had been a lie.

She knew fully well why she couldn't get over that accursed place.

It wasn't the horrifying images she had seen or the insane scientists she had encountered. It was a single person who had stood by her side and looked in face of death without fear.

Steve.

She could still hear his final words as clearly as if he was standing right next to her saying them.

_ Claire, I love you._

Tears sprung up in Claire's eyes at the memory. She would never forget the shock, the mind numbing horror she had felt as Steve's life drained away. She hadn't even been able to tell him that she felt the same way.

And now it was too late.

_** But someone was jealous of the moon and her lover. **_

Sometimes Claire wondered why Wesker had told her that Steve might have survived. Had he said it to give her false hope? To see the look on her face? Or for spite? She wasn't sure. Chris said that you couldn't trust Wesker and Claire always listened to her brother. But that didn't stop the dreams or the hope from blossoming in her chest.

Was it silly to hold onto a thread of hope when your mind is screaming at you that it's not true? When even your closest friends tell you that there's no reason in waiting and that you need to get on with your life. That, despite the fact that the villain has told you something that is most likely a lie; you believe in your heart that it is true.

More than anything in the world, Claire wanted Steve back. She wanted to see his smiling face, hear him say her name. There had been so many things that she had wanted to show him if they had gotten off the island. Even now she could picture the way his eyes would sparkle when he saw something new.

When she wasn't having nightmares of him or the island, Claire had happy dreams of Steve. She would be sitting down – sometimes at work, sometimes at a Starbucks – and Steve would walk in. They would catch each other's eyes at the same time. She would stand up, not believing that he was really there, and Steve would walk over to her, smile, and whisper her name. Claire would then throw herself at him and hug him as tightly as she could. They would pull away and Claire would finally say, "I love you."

It was only a dream, a fantasy. The odds of it coming true were zero to none.

A sigh escaped from Claire's lips. She was tired. It had been an extremely long day at work. She flopped down on her bed and turned off her lamp.

Time for the dreams to come. Hopefully, it would be a happy one.

She shut her eyes and fell asleep.

_** But once someone leaves the Spirit World, they can never come back.**_

Standing on the sidewalk across the street from Claire's apartment stood Steve Burnside. He had changed in the year since the incident on the island. If his father had been alive, he wouldn't have recognized his son. Steve had grown taller by a good five inches. He had muscles on his arms and his eyes seemed to be harder. He had left his "island" clothes behind long ago; the clothes he was wearing now could be labeled as "badass". His collar, he had kept. He still wore it around his neck; it was the only thing about him that hadn't changed. To him, it served as a constant reminder of what he had lost.

His eyes rested on Claire's window. He had followed her half the day because he had heard that her neighborhood wasn't the safest place to live.

Maybe it had been wrong for him to come back. The parasite was still in him; he could feel it moving sometimes.

He hadn't even been looking for her. He had been walking down the street when he had seen her, and despite his mind screaming at him to keep walking, he had followed her.

He had just wanted to make sure that she was all right. Her safety and happiness had meant everything to him on the island and such feelings were impossible to keep buried. Around her friends and peers, she had acted like a normal person. She had smiled and made conversation and even made a few jokes.

But when she had left work by herself that part of her disappeared. It was like she wore a mask to work; she would act normal for their sake, but alone, she was despairing.

Steve wasn't sure what made her so unhappy. It was probably the horror of what she had gone through. That was all. He didn't want to hope that it was his "death" that was upsetting her. No, he wouldn't dig his own grave out of a most likely false hope.

Even if that was the cause, Steve knew that he couldn't be with her. He was infected and might at any moment turn back into that horrible green monster. He still felt sick when he remembered that he had almost killed the love of his life.

Anything between them would be impossible. Besides, he didn't even know if she felt the same way. Like she would be interested in him anyway.

_** And every night he screams her name, because he will never touch her again.**_

Steve's eyes looked at Claire's window mournfully. He should leave. Let her continue thinking he was dead.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and tilted his head back so he could see the sky. There was a full moon out. Odd, it looked as lonely as he felt right now. His eyes slowly closed.

"Claire." He whispered

Louder. "Claire."

Louder still. "Claire!"

Not enough. He threw back his head and screamed her name, "Claire!!"

"Steve!" Claire sat up in bed. She had been dreaming about him again. It hadn't been a good dream. She had seen him dying again.

She switched her lamp back on again.

"Claire!!"

Claire jumped at the scream. That voice…

She jumped out of her bed and raced to her window, throwing back her curtains. Across the street, standing under a street lamp was a figure, a man by the looks of it.

Claire's breath caught in her throat. That man's hair looked familiar.

She ran back to her bed and frantically searched for her boots. They were partially under her bed. She grabbed them and hastily threw them on. No time to change out of her pj's.

She burst through her apartment door and raced down the flight of steps to the street.

People were looking at him. Steve could feel their eyes as they stared out of their windows trying to find the culprit who had woken them from their sleep via screaming.

Not that it mattered. He was just leaving anyway.

With one last look at Claire's apartment, he took off down the street. He had only taken ten steps when he heard someone call his name.

"Steve!"

The man froze the voice incredibly familiar to him. He slowly turned around and took in the gasping, trembling figure behind him.

His voice barely had any volume, "Claire."

**And I'll let your imaginations do the rest. Xp**

**I got the moon story from the X – men movie. Don't shoot me, please.**

**This was supposed to be an angsty story, but there's too much Steve/Claire angst out there. So it ended up like this…**

**Reviews will earn you a cookie fresh out of the oven!!**


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